


Broken

by Sami_Leigh



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sami_Leigh/pseuds/Sami_Leigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s my fault, he wants to say. It’s all my fault."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Contains very slight spoilers for 3x01/02, set just after the end of Doubt. 
> 
> For Maia, who gave me the prompt "Gideon + broken". Sorry this is a lot longer than drabble length!

_“I, myself, am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” - Augusten Burroughs._

* * *

It’s this last case that tips him over the edge.

Two more lives lost, and it’s his fault. He should’ve seen it coming when he was sat there, watching whilst Hotch and Prentiss waited and followed Tubbs, but he definitely hadn’t anticipated the girl. Hearing the shots ring out through the monitor had sent a whole new kind of dread flooding through him and he knew there and then that his mind was made up.

Word that Hotch was on suspension because he had taken the rap from Strauss for Jason spread within minutes and it adds to the already mounting pile of guilt that he’d been carrying around with him since the moment he’d found out about Sarah’s death. Aaron did that for him all because he could see that he clearly hadn’t got his head straight, despite his best efforts to hide it and put his guard back up again.

“It’s nothing,” he’d said when Jason had cornered him packing his things in his office. “Some time with Haley and Jack will do me some good.” Hell, he’d even seemed like he was being absolutely genuine about it. So much so that Jason just frowned, speechless for a few seconds. He wants to ask why, but that’s glaringly obvious. Aaron is his friend, and that’s what friends do. He couldn’t even stutter out a thank you. _It’s my fault_ , he wants to say. _It’s all my fault._

Eventually, he’d tried a small smile, quietly uttered a “see you in a couple weeks”, then excused himself.

The rest of the team had gone home almost as soon as they were off the jet, so he sits down at his desk and waits for the soft click of Aaron’s office door closing. When it does, he pulls out an old box that used to contain case files, setting it down on his desk while he casts a glance around him. He looks at the books on his shelves, paperwork stacked on his desk, various objects he’s managed to collect over the years. Everything that a profiler like him, the rest of his team, could take one look at and begin to understand him. That’s when it hits him that he honestly doesn’t know who he is anymore.

He used to be so goddamn good at what he did, the very _best_ at this job. Before Frank, before Boston.. He wasn’t sure that he could trust himself out in the field now, or even trust himself in general. Besides, if he was so good, why couldn’t he compartmentalise it all anymore? Why couldn’t he keep his emotions in check like he used to?

It feels like it’s all folding in on him and he’s too weak now to push it all away. He needs the time to heal, to pick himself up off the ground and at least begin to feel whole again.

He doesn’t want any of this.

When he places the box down on the floor several minutes later and doesn’t even bother to lock his office door, he feels the tiniest of weights lift off of his shoulders.

He might be broken, but he sure as hell is going to find a way to fix that. 


End file.
